The night seems endless. Smoking the too-maniest cigarette with no hope to fall asleep. Good ol' blues and good ol' glass of whiskey. I could get drunk as hell. I know that won't make me any sleepier, but i surely will.

There was a woman (and still she is somewhere, thanks God, not here). There is always a woman in a sleepless night, you know.

Nothing in this world could make her loose her sleep. Either she was sad or she was happy, she slept like a baby. Dreaming of someone else. Either she was happy or she was sad, I could not sleep and lied smoking beside her. Staring at the ceiling. Dreaming there were another women. The one I could sleep with.

It's all the same tonight. No matter where she is and whose shoulder she's lying on, she sleeps like a baby dreaming of some another man, not the one she's with. And I lie smoking drinking staring at ceiling dreaming there were a woman I could sleep with.

It's all the same.

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Category: graphomania

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